The Sticky Note Affair
by EbonyOsmosis
Summary: Typical love story, where two people meet, fall madly in love against all odds, and live happily ever after...? Pfft, you're in the wrong section.
1. Prologue

A/N: This is just a little something in between drabbles and Red Means Stop. Drabbles are great and all, but you lack the freedom for development. With that one spot in time, how can you express characters growing, or anything that takes any proper amount of time? I'm honing my ability to write developing interaction between two characters, which is really the only point to this.

Hope you like!

- - - -

**The Sticky Note Affair**

Prologue

- - - -

You know how in those dinky, cheesy romance movies where two strangers catch eyes from across the room, or bump into each other in the subway, and they immediately fall in love? They get separated by the crowd, but damn that spark is there. Coincidentally enough, they meet again in that big ass city, like _New York, _or some other impossibly huge place. They find each other and things are a little bumpy at first, but it works out?

Yeah, that's bullcrap.

In my humble opinion, anyway. How can you fall in love with someone without knowing them first? Love is based off of more than just physical attraction. What if you 'fall in love' with someone across the room, and you find out that person is a total screwball? Yeah, let me know how that works out. Crush, lust, puppy love, whatever works. But you can't have the real deal without knowing that person first.

That's why best friends so often end up together, because they were actual friends first, not just looking for a booty call.

Me? Oh ho. There's so much leading up to that first kiss, I could write a damn novel if I wanted to. It would probably do pretty well, actually... Logging that away if I ever fall on hard times and need to take starving artist to the next level.

Our story is a little out of the norm. In fact, if things hadn't happened the precise way they did, we probably would have never made it together. Otherwise it's chock full of drama, just like romance readers enjoy. Hell, I _know _I could publish this as a damn book! It would get eaten up, let me tell you!

Now don't get your jammies in a twist, I'm getting to the interesting part. Sheesh.

My name is Duo Maxwell, and this is _my _love story.

...Can we forget I just said that? That was cheesy.


	2. Chapter 1

**The Sticky Note Affair**

Chapter 1

- - - -

'_text' -_ writing

- - - -

It all started a few weeks into my sophomore year. That's your first really awkward limbo in the shark pit they call high school. You're not an ickle freshy anymore, but you're still not considered one of the big kids. Sophomores are very awkward creatures. They're the birds who just left the nest, fluffing up their feathers to look bigger and ward off predators.

I'd so get murdered for that if my friends heard.

So anyway, my first few weeks of year two were pretty boring. The shock of actually making it to high school had worn off long ago. I remember when I was still living on the streets, existing for scraps of bread I could scrounge out of trash cans. At that point in my life I didn't think I'd even get to see the sixth grade, let alone high school, so freshman year had been like a big sock in the gut.

I started out doing what I always did, making friends. What can I say, I'm a social butterfly! I didn't really like all that many people in my classes, though, because lets face it, the majority of the campus was a big fat popularity contest. I connected with the group that made up about 15 of the population, with a few exceptions. Anyone who wasn't trying to rule the universe by having the most friends, or too busy being anti social to talk back. That was my bracket, and it worked out pretty well. Met some cool people that way. Funny thing is, three of my closest friends are from the anti-social category, but we'll get to that.

When it all began, I was just sitting down in my science class, moaning and groaning to myself pathetically. I had just come from the _nurse's office _because I had a _boo boo_. Let's just say I had gotten into a minor scuffle with some folks I don't quite get along with. My friends bugged me into going, refusing to accept me being a big boy and cleaning it up myself. But damn that Relena is annoying when she wants to be. She's cool and all, a little air headed at first, but when she turns on the annoyance, she doesn't hold back.

And what did I get for the indignity of crawling to the nurse? A band aid and some antiseptic. _God _does that stuff sting like a bitch. That's why I was moaning and groaning, by the way. Because I was resisting the strong impulse to just chop my whole arm off and save some trouble.

We were having a particularly boring discussion that day, about, gosh, the periodic table of elements. As if I'm going to need to know about that, unless I become a physicist. Hah! Didn't think I knew what those were, didja? Shame on you.

Things were going the same as they usually did, including someone feigning a queasy look to get out of class, and the girl next to me snapping her gum in my face and asking if she could, like, um, copy my answers? No way, babe. Now, our desks in said science class have these handy little storage compartments on the undersides. It's really helpful actually, so you have room to work during labs and you don't have to resort to throwing your crap all over the floor.

I was bored out of my mind, and decided to poke around in said storage to see what hidden treasures I could find. My fingers treaded carefully, for fear of petrified gum wads. I didn't find any of that, thankfully. I didn't find any left over pens, or jewelry from someone who forgot to put it back on after a lab, or any love letters.

What I did find...

...was a pad of sticky notes.

Interesting. My mind whirled with the possibilities for entertainment, the list being endless. Could I leave weird little messages somewhere? Or do the classic 'kick me' bit? Of course I would probably add my own spice, like 'honk if you like chicken.' Don't ask me what that would imply, 'cause I don't have a clue, but I'm sure the student populace could come to their own conclusions.

Sadly enough, in the end I didn't really _do _anything with them, per say. The only thing I did was write aimlessly on the front note. It went something along the lines of 'this windbag won't stop, oh god kill me now.' Not a piece of poetry, by any means, but I stuck it inside the storage space for shits and giggles. Not caring for the rest of them, I ditched the notepad back where I found it, in case someone actually used them for constructive purposes. I never would have known the huge ripple that one little sticky note would create for me.

- - - -

The next time I had science again, I went to my assigned seat having completely forgotten about my little message. It was later as we were finishing up a lab that I found it. I was taking out my notebook to start on the write-up portion, when something fluttered to the floor innocently. The yellow was what caught my eye, otherwise I might haven't noticed. I picked it up, expecting it to be my own writing. But what stared back at me was a lot different than my own. I consider myself to have relatively neat handwriting, but this was borderline perfect.

'_Is this what you use your class time for?'_

I couldn't help the smirk that inched its way onto my face. Oh the possibilities. I flipped open my notebook so the teacher wouldn't catch me, and wrote a response on the same sticky note. I would need to conserve the others for my plans, of course.

'_Only when I'm on death's door from boredom. What about __you__?_' I added a smiley face for good measure. Oh, I could tell this was going to be fun.

- - - -

As I had hoped, they took a bite of that lure, defending their honor as a good student.

'_I did not use my class time. I replied after class, like this time as well.'_

From there, we started to engage in banter about anything and everything, and it soon became friendly. I had come to a tentative decision that the person was a guy. Honestly, no offense to the ladies, but I have _never _seen a girl that didn't use that big loopy bubble writing. Even Hilde kinda writes like that, but it's legible with her.

As the semester got into full swing, the little exchange remained like clockwork. It was pretty fun, actually. I had something to look forward to every other day. Every time I saw yellow, I thought of sticky notes, then I thought of my pen pal. I started getting glimpses of that person without ever actually talking to them face to face. I had a ball trying to come up with a mental image from our conversations. In turn, I was unconsciously revealing small things about myself as well.

For example, I doodled a lot in the corners of each note. I guess one of them got pretty detailed, because one day I came into science to read: _'You're an artist, are you?' _Revealing that had been unintentional, really. I have this thing about people seeing my drawings, especially my sketchbook. One time I found someone flipping through it, and it felt like they had violated my privacy in the worst way. There's also this... weird guilt trip thing some people do. This one girl in my art class, Andrea, acts as if I'm trying to show everyone up with my drawings. From various reactions like these over the years, I'd grown more and more private about my art.

But getting back to the story. He asked if I was an artist, and I tentatively wrote back an affirmative. In the next note, he asked to see something a little more detailed, and I complied. It's hard drawing on such tiny paper, sheesh, and since he'd asked me to draw something, of course my mind went blank. I settled for drawing a hawk in mid-flight, and he'd returned a semi-compliment on a fresh note, so I assumed he'd kept the drawing.

That had been a nice little pick-me-up.

- - - -

A week or two later, I started to feel the grip of a cold coming on, which made me whine like a little baby when I realized I was getting sick. I _hate _being sick. It's just awful, whether it be a stuffy nose, nausea, the lack of energy, or a simple cough. The flu is the absolute worst. One time when I was younger it had me bedridden for two weeks straight, puking my guts out in half-hour intervals and trying to keep down chicken soup.

So, as the week progressed and I started getting worse and worse, my (adopted) mom finally put her foot down and made me stay home a couple of days. I don't like staying home, cause either way you're sick, so why let yourself fall behind on homework? Mom wouldn't have any of my protests, though, and threatened to strap me into bed. I had counted down the minutes, and when the clock hit 8:20, the time the final morning bell rings, it became finalized. I allowed myself a moment to mourn the loss of a day's communication with my pen pal before falling into a dead sleep.

It continued on in that fashion, and I often woke up late at night during the worst of it, unable to breathe through my nose _or _my mouth. That was the shits, big time. A good few times while sitting in bed staring at the wall for lack of anything better to do, I wondered about my note buddy. Did he think I'd abandoned our conversations? Or did he simply assume I'd skipped class that day? But damnit, I couldn't wait to get back into that classroom and find out what was going on.

- - - -

The day I came back to school was not a scheduled day for my science class, so I had to go there to get the work I'd missed. I trudged along towards the science wing during lunch, feeling miffed because I was robbing myself of valuable time to hang out with my friends. I hated leaving them, because I always felt like I was going to miss some hilarious moment in that one crucial minute. At the thought of that, I hurried my pace a little, making my way around groups of laughing students. That school is _so _crowded it's not even funny. You need a snow plow to get through the quad.

When I got to the classroom, a test of the door revealed that it was unlocked. Even more to my luck, _my _teacher was still there. Different teachers swap in and out of some rooms, so you never know who's going to be where unless you run into them by sheer dumb luck.

But of course, I had to wait in line for a few minutes. There were three or four other kids in front of me, waiting to ask some sort of question, or clarify something on the homework. I took this time to look around, taking in the unfamiliar scene of the room when it wasn't bursting with students. It was strangely quiet, almost kind of ghostly. It was the type of silence that made you afraid to say anything, as if it would echo loudly and everyone would look at you funny.

I hadn't realized how long I'd spaced out until I realized it was almost my turn to talk to the teacher. In drawing my eyes around from where I'd been staring out the window, I noticed there were a few people in the desks. And then...

...I saw _him_.


	3. Chapter 2

Thanks so much to everyone who's reviewed so far! I still can't believe I already have 10 reviews for a prologue and one chapter!

Shogi: But ahhh, you're smart, you know who it is.

- - - -

The Sticky Note Affair

Chapter 2

- - - -

How did I know at the time that it was him? He was sitting in my seat, writing on a little piece of yellow paper. Dead give away much? It was kind of surreal finding my new friend in person, when for weeks we had been talking on a faceless basis. I took a moment to simply study him.

Later on, I would grow to love these qualities simply because they were on him, but when I first saw him I wasn't immediately dumbstruck like the movies say I should have. He had shiny black hair pulled into a very tight tail at the nape of his neck, and I thought to myself how uncomfortable it looked. From my angle I could see small, rectangular, black rimmed glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. When they started slipping down, a hand would reach up to push them back up, an unconscious action that I would grow to find absolutely adorable for some reason.

He looked up, feeling my stare, and our eyes met for a moment. His were gently almond shaped, and very dark brown, almost black. He peered at me over his glasses with a peeved look, an unspoken command to stop my nosy staring. Deciding to wait and see what would happen, I chose to let the little note game go on. So I averted my eyes and continued my journey to the teacher's desk to ask for the assignments I had missed the previous day.

So I now had a face to go with the notes, but I still didn't have a voice, or a good idea of his personality. From some of his writings and the look he'd given me, I concluded he was a little uptight. But I was okay with that. I'd cracked some tough shells in the past, and if I wanted to befriend my note pal then I'd have to brace myself.

People have told me I could charm a tiger into becoming a vegetarian.

As I was putting my missed work into a binder, I noticed from the corner of my eye, my note buddy slide his note into the desk. He then shouldered a messenger bag and approached the teacher. I acted inconspicuous, rifling through papers to stall.

"What can I do for you, Wufei?" the teacher asked him as he approached.

My mind gobbled that up greedily, replacing all hints of 'note buddy' with 'Wufei.' Now I had a little more to go on, so I left discreetly while he was talking with the teacher.

My mission was commencing.

- - - -

The next day, I was so eager to see what Wuffers had written that I went into science early.

...

I know, right?

Hey, don't laugh!

_Anyway_, when I got to my seat I immediately felt around the storage area of the desk, my fingers falling across a small sheet of paper. I pulled it out in anticipation, hoping he hadn't told me to bugger off or anything.

'_Did I offend you?'_

Now _that _threw me for a loop. Offend me? How would he have offended me? I tried to think back to what I last remembered him writing. Something along the topic of homework, and I had responded to that one. That was right before I stayed home sick. Maybe he'd started a new topic and without my timely response, thought he'd crossed some sort of boundary?

After my mind had been doing flip flops for about five minutes in an effort to figure out his note, I realized Wufei had written on the back side of the sticky note. I flipped it over and saw writing dated for the second day I was absent.

Oh, yeah, we wrote the date on each response, something he started so we wouldn't get messed up, and then I started doing it too.

So this note would be the one I hadn't responded to.

'_I've been wondering something. Why would you be talking to a complete stranger through notes?'_

My face did this weird little thing where it screwed up in a mixture of confusion and relief. Was that all it was? Oh man, I had desperately hoped that he didn't think I was oddball enough to get offended over a question like that. Maybe that was the only explanation he could think of as to why I hadn't responded. I still don't know to this day.

With five minutes until class would start, I took out a pen and a fresh sticky note. I'm embarrassed to admit I kind of wrote a novel. I had to scrunch my writing real small to fit it all on one side. And like I said, I have relatively neat handwriting, which is lucky for me because I would have needed a sheet of binder paper otherwise.

'_No no, you didn't offend me. I would be some kind of prude to get all weird over that. I was out sick on Tues and Weds with a killer cold. But anyway, I'm talking to a complete stranger because you let me. It seems like an interesting way to make a friend, don't you think? Sorry for delayed response!'_

In the corner of the paper I doodled a little stick figure with a tissue to its nose, looking haggard. I grinned a little to myself and stuck the note, literally stuck it, to the underside of the desk. We didn't appreciate the idea of other snoopy people finding our notes. So far it had worked great.

The bell rang and the teacher didn't even attempt to stop the chattering that was going on. The poor guy figured out early on in his career that it was useless to try until after the morning announcements. Instead he just flipped through some papers that he would need for the day, looking unconcerned.

Now this is where the next major turn in my life took place.

Amid the noisy talking of my peers, I caught the classroom door opening. A harried looking kid peeked in, and, comforted by the lack of attention on him, made his way to the teacher's desk. I watched him curiously, being the nosy thing I am. He unfolded a piece of paper, his schedule, I assumed, and handed it to the teacher. Mr. Hill looked over it as the kid said something, then he nodded and handed the paper back. He glanced over the room with a keen eye, and I noticed him focus on the empty seat next to me.

The teacher pointed to it, and the new kid's eyes met mine for a moment. An innocent little smile lit his face and he made his way to the seat. He set his backpack down and slipped into the chair, scooting closer to the desk. Funny enough, less than one fourth of the class noticed him coming in; the others were way too busy gabbing over nonsense. Once the announcements started, I turned a little in my seat and gave him a once over. He had light blonde hair, fair skin, and bright blue-green eyes. "Hi," I said.

As I had hoped, he responded in a friendly manner. He seemed very willing to make friends. "Hello," he responded. "My name is Quatre Winner."

"Duo Maxwell," I replied, returning the smile. "New here?"

"Oh no," he said, shaking his head a little so his bangs shifted. "They mixed my schedule around because I wanted to transfer into symphonic band."

I think my eyes may have popped out a little. A had a Mozart sitting next to me! "_Symphonic _band, huh? What do you play?"

He smiled wider, eyes sparkling at the topic. It would not take me long to learn that he was in love with music. It was a level above me, where he could actually play an instrument. "I actually play a few, but I'm focusing on the violin."

"That's really cool. I wish I could play an instrument, but I'm challenged that way. I can play a stereo, though," I said, giving him a little grin and feeling pleased when he laughed.

"Alright, settle down," the teacher called, vying for the class' attention, and we turned forward. We ended up chatting through the lab that was assigned, and I came to realize I'd made a new friend.

- - - -

After class, I invited him to chill with my pack later on at lunch. I was sure Heero, Hilde and Relena would like him..

"Can I bring my friend?" he asked uncertainly, looking as if he was dreading the possibility that I would say no. I could tell he wouldn't abandon his buddy.

"Of course," I told him, clapping a hand on his shoulder as we left the classroom. "The more the merrier. Where should I pick you up?" I teased.

He smiled, those big blue eyes sparkling again. "We'll be in the band room packing up after class, if you don't mind waiting a moment."

"No problemo," I replied, waving to him as we split ways. "See you later!"

"Bye, Duo!" he called back, returning the wave before turning fully to face his path.

- - - -

When lunch time rolled around, I headed for the band room in search of my new buddy. It's a pretty hard building to miss, because after school there's always a stream of people filing out with big instrument cases. As I approached, I peeked in through the window in the door and saw some kids still playing in there. I eased the door open and weaseled inside, not wanting to disturb them.

No one paid me any mind, and I looked around the near-empty room. Half of the lighting was off, so it was slightly dim near the back and hard to immediately spot someone. There were four rows of chairs stretching from one side of the room to the other, angled in a half circle shape around the teacher's podium. Spotting Quatre putting away his violin, I headed over and sat next to him in one of the chairs. "Hey," I said quietly. "Where's your pal?"

Quat looked up at me after setting the violin in its case and pointed at the front of the room. There I saw the teacher, a guy in his mid thirties, if I would guess, and a few students seated on the lower portion of the floor. One of them was standing in front of the band instructor as if he were being tested. He was tall, taller than me, anyway, with auburn hair that fell in an odd sweep over one eye. He held a flute up to his mouth, and on the teacher's cue, started to play.

I don't know how long I zonked out listening to him.

The notes floating through my ears formed the most haunting, beautifully sad melody I'd ever heard. The teacher didn't act like it was any big deal, or any of the other students, for that matter, but I was in absolute awe over it. I hadn't even talked to the guy yet and he'd already earned my respect for the beautiful music he was producing. Damnit I wish I could play an instrument! I've always wanted to play the bass guitar, but what I wouldn't give right then to make such a beautiful sound.

Once he finished, the teacher nodded appreciatively, writing on his clipboard. "Very nice, Trowa, see you next time."

He nodded quietly and stepped down, another person taking his place when their name was called. Trowa headed over and took a seat on Quatre's other side, pulling out a case from underneath the chair. He then proceeded to put away the delicate silver instrument, showing such care. Once the three of us were outside, Trowa turned to me. "Duo Maxwell, right?" His voice was low and quiet, and now that we were in good lighting I noticed how green his eyes were. "Quatre told me about you, it's nice to meet you. Trowa Barton," he said, holding a hand out.

We shook. His hand was willowy, but strong. "Thanks," I replied, smiling. "Nice to meet you too. Shall we get going, then? The guys will be wondering if I fell into a hole on my way from English," I joked, grinning.

- - - -

I had intended for this chapter to be longer, but this seemed like a good place to leave off.


	4. Chapter 3

A/N: I can't believe it's been a _year _since I updated this! I'm _really _sorry you guys, I know there's quite a few of you who really got into this story before it supposedly died. But I finally got the will to pick it back up, and here's a new chapter for you! I know I hate it when a story I like goes into suspended animation like this one did, so I feel terrible for putting that on others. I hope I can keep up regular updates and make it up to you! ^^ On with the story.

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The Sticky Note Affair

Chapter 3

- - - -

Lunchtime with my guests turned out a lot better than I expected, even though I didn't have any doubts in the first place. We walked up to my usual spot where Heero was sitting surrounded by three girls, looking highly uncomfortable but stubbornly unwilling to say anything. Hilde and Relena were not unusual, but the third visitor was someone we didn't see around as often. It made no difference to me, so I called out to her as we approached. "Hey Cathy! Gracing us with your presence of seniority?"

The older girl turned around with a smile, eyes lighting up as she abandoned the group torture that Heero had been undergoing. "Hi Duo, it's been a while. Hey Trowa, Quatre," she said sweetly, walking over to greet us.

I looked back and forth between the three, obviously not part of their loop. "Wait, you guys know each other?"

Cathy giggled at me before walking over to Trowa and putting a hand on his shoulder. "I should hope so, he _is _my little brother," she said cheekily, giving the quiet boy's face a friendly pat.

Hubbuhwhat?- brother? But... Trowa _Barton _and Catherine _Bloom_. Ahhhh numbers don't add up! My confusion must have shown, but before I could say anything to question the obvious inequality in the equation, Quatre sent me a harried look, shaking his head. I closed my mouth, blinking stupidly as I gathered my thoughts. Okay, taboo subject, whatever. "Oh, cool!" I said with a grin. "So this is the brother you've told us about! Small world!"

"We're still here you know," Hilde said, obviously peeved at being ignored.

Instead of taking pity on her, I decided to make it worse because I'm just an ass like that sometimes. "Shhhh sweetie the adults are talking," I said to Hilde. I couldn't help but grin at the murderous look on her face, not to mention the look of 'you're pushing it' from Hee-chan. I interrupted her pending explosion by distracting her. "Guys, I want you to meet our guests. This is Quatre, from my science class, and his friend Trowa. Everyone here already knows Cathy so we'll ignore her for now-"

"Hey!"

"Quat, Trowa, these are my buds Heero, Relena and Hilde," I finished with a grin, giving Cathy a friendly shove to let her know I was kidding. She'd already known this, of course, but my worldly charm came through and she let it go, smiling. After everyone exchanged greetings, I took to finding out what the girls had been doing to my poor best friend. In all honesty, I should have known better than to open my mouth about the subject, but hey, no one's perfect...

"Duo, tell Heero to go to the dance with me!" Relena insisted with a pout, and the other two girls joined with a synchronized 'yeah!' in her defense.

I held my hands up in my own defense. "Hey, ladies, Heero's his own man, I can't make him do what he don't wanna do!"

"Sure you can," Hilde told me with a glare. "I've seen you talk him into plenty of things before. You just have to make him realize he wants to take Lena to the dance!"

"Urgh," I groaned, tired of this conversation that I swear I've heard a million times before. Instead I turned to Quatre and Trowa. "Are we having fun yet?" I whined at them, earning a laugh from Quat and a bit of a smirk from his taller buddy. After it that it seemed as if I'd successfully integrated them into the group. Trowa and Heero seemed to get on rather well with each other, probably cause they're both so quiet and almost always serious. The girls were particularly taken with Quatre as he talked to them about the instruments he played. While they were getting settled within the group, I couldn't help but let my mind go back to the issue of the siblings. If they were brother and sister, why did they have different last names? It must have been something personal if Quat didn't want me asking about it. I know I don't like icky stuff being brought up, even from people I know well, so I'll let it be. Maybe blondie will tell me about it later.

- - - -

For the next couple of weeks, my new friends continued to hang out with me during free time at school, and I was happy to see my pre-existing pals taking to them well. Cathy popped in from time to time like she usually does, but she has senior-y stuff to do with her senior class friends, so we don't see her for much at a time. We mere sophomores aren't special enough to be graced regularly by upperclassmen, being only a step above the wee freshies. Don't get me wrong, Cathy's great, she's just wrapped up in her stuff, which I don't blame her for. I get wrapped up in things too, like talking with my pen pal. At this point I had started to think about finding him and introducing myself for real. I mean, the note thing is fun, but it takes a long time to finish a conversation when you have to wait until the day after tomorrow to get a response.

After the whole nonexistent offense was cleared up, things had started to get easier between us. It seemed like revealing my intentions to make friends with him opened up a new door. He had opened up a little more than usual in our notes, and his snarky comments had turned in a direction of friendly teasing. So I thought it was about time. I had been thinking about this for a while, but after two months of talking to Wufei through the sticky notes, I was starting to feel like we were becoming good friends. And good friends talk to each other's faces, right? The only catch was that I have a flair for dramatics, as Hilde calls it. Accepting this fact, I realized I had to introduce myself in a witty, amusing way. It would have to have something to do with the sticky notes, of course, so he'd know who I was right away.

I thought about it all the way home. When I got in through the front door I called a greeting to mummy, whose been my mummy for three years now. Since I was 13, an age at which children rarely get adopted. Once you pass into the teen years, no one wants you. They all go for the little ones, which I don't mind, cause I got to know alotta those little ones at the orphanages. You wanna see them go while they still have a shred of innocence, before they become hardened to the ways of life's bitch slaps. But you still wanna go yourself. The teens all seem like they could care less, but deep down they want a home just as bad as the kids. I was the same way. I portrayed to everyone around that I couldn't give a crap if anyone wanted me or not. I went to school, and though all the other kids teased me for living at an orphanage, I told them I _loved _not having parents. No rules, no nagging, no nothin.

But then mom came along. Well, at the time I knew her as Eliza Maxwell, where I got my last name. Before her I was just... just Duo. The system saddled me with the last name Morrison, which, let's face it, sounds utterly shit. Duo Morrison? Barf. Seriously. But Lady Eliza came in, visiting the orphanage every day to get to know the children. I let the little ones crowd around her, while me an' all the other teens hung back, keeping to ourselves at the sidelines. She looked at me every day, just looked at me, with those big brown eyes. Sweet lady, I could tell, but I didn't bother. It's like with cats. Everyone wants the cute little kittens, and the bigger ones get passed up because they're not cute anymore.

She started coming around me the fourth day she visited, talking to me, and before I knew it I started thinking. Duo Maxwell sounded awfully right, compared to Duo Morrison. And within two weeks of her visiting every day... I was adopted...

For a while I almost expected to wake up from a dream, or for her to return me like a defective product. But she kept me. She didn't insist that I call her mom, and for a while I didn't. For the first year I called her Eliza, and she told me anytime I was ready, even if I was never ready, I could call her mom. I did, eventually. I would whisper it to myself, rehearse lines like 'hi mom,' and 'what's for dinner, mom?' Eventually it started to sound comfy, like a shirt that fits right. So the first time I called her mom, she just smiled and hugged me, for the longest time I'd even been hugged before.

Oh, but here I am rambling, when that's not what the story's about. What I needed to be thinking about was how to get me a new buddy out of Wufei.

- - - -

It was a Tuesday morning when I decided what I would do to introduce myself to Wufei. I thought about it all through History, and then in science I made sure to grab a few of the sticky notes. I wrote one up while Quat watched curiously. I'd told him about my pen pal the second day we had science together. He saw me reading one of Wufei's notes and watched as I wrote back. I saw his interested look and told him all about the conversations I'd been having with my new friend. And now, today, we parted ways at lunch. I told him to let the others know that I was going to look for someone and that I'd be back soon, so he bid me good luck and headed off to what had become his spot as well as mine.

I spent about ten minutes looking for Wufei, really unsure of where to start. I checked the cafeteria first, but no sign of him. I next checked the campus quad area, but among all the mingling students he was absent. I wandered around towards the less populated areas, like the library, the parking lot, but it wasn't until I checked the art wing did I get results. There was a nice grassy area with large shady trees near the main building, an area that was surprisingly sparse for how pleasant it was.

I looked among the milling people and success!

There he was, leaning against a tree reading from a novel. Despite the sense of victory that had taken up residence, I felt my smile slowly melt away into something a little less happy. Did he spend all of his time alone like that? Didn't he have any friends? Or maybe he chose to seclude himself? But I had a hard time believing that, since he seemed willing enough to talk to me over the sticky notes. If he could and was willing to make a friend through short messages, I couldn't imagine that he was one of those quiet ones who preferred to be left to himself. But then again, people act a lot different in person than say over the phone or e-mail. I would just have to extend my offer like originally planned and see what he would do.

I took a moment to write a new sticky note, one that I felt was a little more suitable then what I had previously written up. I could tell from our limited interactions so far that he was somewhat of a proud person, so I didn't want him to take it as a pity offer. I had to word it carefully, I don't like stepping on toes, accidentally or otherwise.

Finished with my new proposal, I walked over to Wufei quietly, trying to get there without catching his attention. He looked very involved with his book, so I figured I'd be able to pull it off. Other people were walking around the area, so an extra body in his peripheral vision shouldn't have been a problem. I approached my pen pal and dropped down into a crouch in front of him, reaching over the edge of his book and sticking the note onto the top of the page.

Wufei glanced up at me with a pissed look for invading his space, but then he looked down to the sticky note as it distracted him. I could tell from the movement of his dark eyes that he was reading it, not to mention the realization.

'_You look lonely. Wanna join me and my friends for lunch?'_

Wufei looked back and forth between me and the note, slowly losing his sour expression as he realized who I was. He seemed uncertain of how to proceed, so I gave him my best smile. "Hi!" I said cheerfully, waving a little. He blinked for a moment, as if thrown off by my show of friendliness, but eventually a very, _very _small smile quirked his lips. Mine widened, if that's possible. "So?"

"Okay," Wufei replied, and I laughed a little when he used the sticky note as a book mark for his novel. We stood up and he brushed the grass off of his jeans before we were off. Ha ha! Another addition to my growing collection! Friends are dandy, insert nasally laughter here. When we arrived at my usual spot, the rest of my buds were chatting happily.

"Hey guys," I called, garnering their attention. "I brought another guest. This is-"

"Hi Wufei," Quatre said cheerfully, cutting me off mid-sentence. I shut my stalled mouth and looked back and forth between the two. "Eh?" I managed, quite eloquent if you ask me. I had never mentioned my pen pal's name to Quatre. "You two know each other?"

"Since grade school," Wufei replied calmly.

"We're not particularly close, but we're on good terms," Quat added in with a smile. "So that's the pen pal you've been telling us of?"

"Yup," I replied, getting my wits back. I guess I wasn't too surprised. Though there's an assload of people at this school, it's all a web of interconnected relationships, enemies and acquaintances, so everyone knows someone and someone knows everyone. "Everyone else, this is Wufei, my sticky note buddy from science," I said with a grin, setting a hand on his shoulder as they all either offered waves or verbal welcomes. "Wufei, this is my pack. Quatre, who you already know, Trowa, who you might know because of Quat, Heero, Hilde, and Relena."

"The family keeps growing," Relena said with a smile. "Have a seat, Wufei."

Wufei glanced at me, and I couldn't help but find it kinda cute. Outwardly, he didn't look hesitant or anything, but something in his eyes looked unsure of the idea of actually interacting with someone, let alone a group of people. I smiled at him in a reassuring way and gestured towards one of the benches. He nodded a little, almost to himself, and went to sit down in one of the empty spots next to Quatre. I sat on his other side, and he seemed to take comfort in being closest to the only two people he knew on some level. Maybe he wasn't anti-social like I thought? He didn't seem shy, more like nervous about being around people he didn't know. He'd happily enough accepted my offer to hang out with us, but now he seemed unsure. Maybe he sat alone at lunch because he couldn't make the first step to making friends?

On the other hand, maybe I over think things and know nothing about his reasons for sitting alone with his book.

_- - End Chapter 3 - -_

I hope you liked meeting Wufei finally. Thanks to all of my reviewers on this story so far, even if I don't address you all. I always appreciate the support and kind words. ^_^

**Reader in the Corner: **Thanks for pointing that out. I actually intended to look it up before I posted the final version of chapter 2 since I just threw in whatever band section I could think of, but I forgot. From what I can gather through the internet, if Quatre were on violin he'd be in orchestra, rather than symphonic like I originally wrote. I hope that's correct?

**Shogi: **You'll see the importance. Mostly it has to do with Quat knowing Wufei beforehand, which will reveal its significance later.

To everyone else, thank you so much, and until next time!


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